


Kiss Me Again

by zacharybosch



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: DrunkenKissesChallenge, M/M, Post-Episode: s02e10 Naka-Choko, and drunk, i updated it with more!, it's season 2 so of course that means PAIN and/or ANGST, lonely will is lonely, so now it's slightly less sad i guess?, sorry these probably aren't the drunken kisses you were hoping for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7256194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zacharybosch/pseuds/zacharybosch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is drunk and feeling his loneliness. UPDATED 4th July '16 with a bonus chapter!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Night lay uneasily on Wolf Trap. The dogs didn’t settle, huffing and snapping at every tree branch stirred in the wind, and Will Graham downed another glass of whiskey as he dialled a number on his phone. He stared at last night’s ghosts moving about his living room, writhing on his bed, while the phone rang and rang.

“Hello?”

“Hello, doctor.”

“Will. It’s late, is everything alright?”

“Couldn’t sleep. I don’t know why I called you.”

“I’m happy to talk, if that’s what you need.”

“Not with Alana tonight, then?” It came out far more bitter than he intended. Oh well.

“No.”

Will huffed and went to take another swallow from his glass. Empty. The bottle would do.

“Why can’t you sleep, Will?”

“It’s funny. I’ve spent so long on my own. One night of… company should be little more than a blip on my radar.”

“Can I assume that you’re speaking of Margot?”

“It’s not even her, just… human presence. Someone else’s breathing. She didn’t even stay the whole night. I guess I really am that needy.”

“Your encounter with Margot reminded you of the small intimacies people share, and put into stark relief your lack of anyone to share with. Did you call me tonight because you were seeking intimacy?”

Will let out what he hoped was a dismissive laugh, and what he feared was a pained grunt. “No no, doctor, I have all the liquid intimacy I need right here.” He grabbed the near-empty whiskey bottle by the neck and held it up before his lips. “Kiss me again, lover…”

On the other end of the line, Hannibal winced as he counted two, three, four noisy gulps.

“Go back to bed, Will. You’ll not find what you seek at the bottom of that bottle.”

“Maybe you’ll find it, though. You think I’m vulnerable now, wait until the bottle’s empty and I’m alone again… You could have me.”

“You don’t know what it is you say.”

“I’d let you. Come over here. I’d let you…”

“Goodnight, Will.”

A terse click, and dead air on the other end of the line. The wind still whipped through the trees outside, and the dogs still whined and growled with nervous tension, and Will Graham was still alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a bonus chapter, because people asked and i felt terrible leaving you all hanging with that sad ending

The next evening, Will leaned against the railing of his porch as he watched the sun sink hazy below the treeline. He could already feel the familiar creeping dread, the cold breath down the back of his neck, the promise of another long night alone. Too bad he’d burned through his emergency whiskey last night, he could do with the warm kiss of his stalwart lover right about now.

Preoccupied with his own moping thoughts, as was his wont, Will didn’t notice the car winding its way up the dirt track that served as his driveway until it was pulling to a stop several metres from the porch. He recognised the car instantly, of course, but it took a few more moments to really register what was about to happen.

Hannibal had come, and he’d brought whiskey. Will should’ve sent him back on his way then and there.

“Why are you here?”

“I thought you could use some company. I hope I’m not intruding?”

~

Ensconced in the two ratty old armchairs at the foot of the bed, they talked about nothing in particular. Will was cagey and Hannibal laid the metaphors on even thicker than usual, both pussy-footing around each other in their own ways. All the while, the steady stream of whiskey flowed.

The first slow hour prowled by, then the second. The whiskey caught up with Hannibal eventually, and he excused himself upstairs. Will took the opportunity to get up, to collect the empty glasses and near-empty bottle and make for the kitchen. When Hannibal came back downstairs, Will could tell him it was late, it was a long drive back to Baltimore so he should start-- 

But of course. Hannibal was in no state to drive, not now. Up until that realisation, Will had been fairly certain he could still extricate himself from this situation before it got out of hand, but now he was faced with the prospect of showing Hannibal to the spare room, apologising for the dust and the musty smell of the bedding, offering the blanket off his own bed, declaring to hell with the lot of it and offering his whole damn bed with him in it.

Will still had Hannibal’s empty glass in his hand. The low light from the floor lamp caught on the smudges of Hannibal’s lips around the rim, and before Will could really think about what he was doing he lifted the glass to his mouth and pressed a kiss to it. He pretended for a second that he could taste Hannibal’s mouth; it would taste like cloves, he decided, star anise, and the iron tang of blood.

He heard footsteps on the stairs and knew if he didn’t move away right fucking now, he was done for. But he replaced the glasses on the small side table and sat back heavily in his chair anyway. Hannibal breezed back into the room for all the world like he hadn’t partaken of the better half of a bottle of whiskey, and took his own seat.

Hannibal poured for both of them.

“I apologise for hanging up on you last night, Will. You were obviously in a vulnerable state and were reaching out for help.”

Will scrubbed a hand over his face and let his head drop against the back of his chair. “I don’t blame you for hanging up. I shouldn’t have said… what I said.”

“That I should come over here.” A beat, enough for the air to grow syrup-thick between them. “That you would let me.”

Heat began to prickle in the tips of Will’s fingers, the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

“I’ve come, Will. Are you going to let me?”

_Don’t make me say it_. Will closed his eyes against the moan building in his throat.

Hannibal got up and crossed the few steps over to stand before Will’s chair. Glass held loose in his hand, he downed the contents and swung a knee up to nestle against the outside of Will’s left thigh.

“Are you going to let me?” Hannibal asked again, softer, whiskey-breath hot against Will’s cheek.

Will wondered for a brief moment just how much of this he could justify as being part of the plan. Certainly the haircut and the smart new coat; Jack had suggested that himself. Maybe the late-night, drunken phone call… a little unorthodox, but ensnaring Hannibal was never going to be straight-forward. 

What he most certainly could not justify was the parting of his mouth and the splaying of his legs, the gentle press and release of teeth against his bottom lip, the flick of eyes from hands, to crotch, to mouth. 

(Or the weeks of jerking off in the shower, gut coiling with lust and disgust and head bowed in shame, Hannibal’s name held hard between his teeth.)

“I’ll let you.”

And then Hannibal was leaning closer, one hand propped on the back of Will’s chair and the other pushing fingers into his hair. The wet slide of whiskey-burned lips, calloused hands gripping powerful thighs, and the desperate undercurrent flowing thick like blood as the words were spoken, _kiss me again_.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on [tumblr](http://zacharybosch.tumblr.com)!


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